The Final Act (The House of Jack the Ripper Book 8)

by Amy Cross

  She wraps her arms tighter around me, hugging me here on the floor in the basement.

  “I can smell your blood,” she whispers. “In a moment I shall go back inside you, never to leave again. We shall become one.”

  I shake my head, but I no longer have the strength to fight back. I can feel myself slipping from my own mind, although after a moment I realize I can hear the sound of water lapping nearby. I manage to turn and look, but I'm still in the basement. Still, I can hear what sounds like a river lapping at a shore, and a few seconds later I remember the words I heard beneath the bridge tonight:

  “The thing inside you is part of you, by blood,” the voice told me. “And blood is the strongest bond of all.”

  “Blood is the strongest bond,” I whisper, staring at the farthest wall.

  “That's right,” the creature says, pulling me even tighter and then placing the fingers of one hand against my chin, as if she's preparing to climb back into my body. “And it is blood that will allow us, together, to live forever.”

  “The strongest bond,” I whisper again, still watching the wall for a moment before finally I realize what I have to do. “Blood is the strongest bond.”

  I hesitate for a moment, as the old woman's fingers slip slowly toward my mouth, and then I look down at my right hand. I clench a fist, squeezing tighter and tighter until I feel my fingernails slicing into my palm. At the same time, the old woman tries to slide her fingers into my mouth, but I turn away.

  “Don't resist,” she purrs. “The fight is already over, little one.” She starts moving her fingers once again toward my mouth. “Hush. We're together now.”

  Opening my fist, I let blood dribble onto the ground. Realizing that I have little time left, I start drawing lines in the blood, while cutting my other hand to get even more blood. I can feel myself starting to lose consciousness, but somehow I manage to keep going. Every time I shift my position slightly, the old woman keeps hold of me, but she's focused on trying to slip her fingers into my mouth. She hasn't noticed what I'm doing.

  “Come on,” she says softly. “You're mine now and I'm yours.”

  Still managing to resist, I continue to draw symbols on the ground with my own blood. Not just any symbols, either. Despite my daze, and despite the fact that my vision's becoming blurred, I'm just about managing to copy the symbols that were carved long ago into the wall. I'm using those symbols to draw a circle, and miraculously the old woman hasn't noticed yet. She thinks I'm slipping away, that I'm going to surrender myself to her at any moment, but after a couple of minutes I've managed to draw a complete circle of symbols around us, all joined together in my own blood.

  “Let's get this over with,” she says, this time being a little more forceful with her fingertips. “Then we can leave. Both of us, together, in one body. We can do whatever we want.”

  “We're not going anywhere,” I whisper.

  “Of course we are,” she replies. “We're going to go anywhere we want. We'll be alive. We can feed as much as necessary, and nobody will be able to stop us. I shall live again, and you'll get to live properly for the first time. Who knows how powerful we'll become, given time?”

  “You can't leave the basement,” I tell her.

  She laughs and strokes the side of my face. “And why would that be?”

  Staring down at the bloody circle, I take a deep breath.

  “Because like you said,” I manage to whisper finally, “blood is the strongest bond. And my blood is keeping you right here.”

  I wait for her to ask what I mean, but a moment later she loosens her grip on me slightly. Turning, I see that she's looking down now at the circle, and I can tell from the increasingly crazed look in her eyes that she's starting to understand. After a few seconds she lets go of me completely, allowing me to slump down against the ground, and I look up just in time to see that she's frantically turning to examine the whole of the circle.

  “What have you done?” she asks, before reaching out and trying to touch the blood. As soon as she gets close, however, she lets out an agonized cry as her fingers start burning. Pulling back, she turns to me. “What have you done?” she sneers. “What have -”

  She gasps as she tries again to touch the blood symbols. When that doesn't work, she tries to reach out a little higher, but again the symbols form a barrier and the old woman recoils as her hand briefly starts to blister. She stares at the blisters for a moment, as if she can't quite believe what she's seeing, and then she slowly turns to me with an expression of pure disgust.

  “Undo it,” she says, her voice trembling with rage. “Right now!”

  “I'll add more!” I reply, as I start trying to get past the symbols myself. I can just about manage, although I have to be careful not to wipe any of the blood away. “You're never going to get out of this basement! You're -”

  Suddenly she grabs my hand and pulls me back toward her. I try to slip away, but her hold is too tight.

  “Is this how you repay me for giving you life?” she snarls. “You wouldn't even exist without me!”

  “That doesn't mean I owe you anything!” I sneer. “And it definitely doesn't mean I'm ever going to let you out of here! Whatever you are, you're going to stay in this basement and rot forever!”

  I try again to pull free, but she's holding me so tight I feel as if she might be about to crush my wrist. The pain is intense, but I refuse to let it show.

  “You're a waste!” she spits, spraying my face with saliva. “I thought you'd take after me, but you're more like that spineless Grazier! You don't know what's good for you, you can't even see the truth when it's right in front of you! And do you seriously believe that this pathetic ring of signs is going to keep me trapped?”

  “I think it might,” I reply.

  “Then you don't know what I'm capable of,” she continues, pulling me closer still. “All those years ago when that man cut my throat, I refused to die. He did what he wanted to me in a field until I screamed and screamed, but still he wouldn't stop. And when he finally killed me, I swore that I'd find a way back. I was only a young girl, younger than you are now, but I knew that I was not going to die, that I would find a way to live again!”

  “Not through me,” I stammer. “Not here. Not now. Not -”

  Before I can finish, she pulls me closer and then she throws me across the basement with such force that I slam head-first into one of the stone pillars. I hear a loud cracking sound and feel a spark of pain blast through my thoughts as I slump down against the ground, where I hit my head again. I swear, as I roll onto my side I feel something coming loose from the back of my head, as if part of my skull has been broken.

  Ahead, the old woman is getting to her feet. She's still inside the blood-symbol circle, and her bones are creaking as she struggles to stand up straight.

  And I can feel blood gushing from the back of my head.

  “I refused to die then,” she sneers, staring down at me with an expression of pure hatred, “and I refuse to die now. I will go on forever! And as for these pathetic symbols, they might hurt me, but I won't let them hold me back. Let this body burn. By the time it turns to ash, I'll be back inside you anyway.”

  With that, she steps forward, then again, and finally she moves her foot past the symbols. As she does so, her rotten flesh starts to blister and burn, blackening quickly before ripples of flame start to rush up her leg. She lets out a gasp of pain, but she takes another step forward even as her leg bursts into flames. The entire front of her body is burning now, erupting as she steps further across the line of symbols, but she forces herself to keep going.

  She's stumbling slightly and swaying, and I can barely see her face now as she burns. She manages another step forward, and now she's almost completely past the line of symbols. It's almost as if she's actually going to escape.

  From deep within the flames, I hear a groan of pain. I have to shield my eyes from the brightness of the inferno, and I can smell her remaining flesh being burned fro
m her bones. Flames are roaring up to the basement's ceiling now and then spreading out across the room, but somehow the burning old woman manages to take another step forward and then another, until finally she stops once she's all the way past the symbols.

  She made it.

  They weren't enough to hold her back, she -

  Suddenly she drops to her knees and falls forward, almost landing right on top me. I stare into the flames, and I'm just about able to make out the outline of her skull as she continues to burn. Too horrified and too injured to move, all I can do is watch in horror as she raises one arm to reveal that her left hand has entirely burned away, leaving only a charred shard of bone protruding from her elbow.

  “I'll find my way back!” she groans, as chunks of bone fall from her skull. “I'll do it all over again if that's what it takes! But you won't!”

  I open my mouth to reply, but suddenly falls toward me. All I can do is cry out as a sharp edge of bone slices straight into my cheek, and then everything goes black as I feel a burning body fall against me. The last thing I hear is my own scream, before finally everything ends.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Maddie

  “There,” Mum says as she finishes adjusting the flower in my hair. Pulling back, she smiles as she takes a look at me. “Well, Maddie, I think I can honestly say that never in my life have I ever seen such a pretty young woman.”

  “Does it really look good?” I ask.

  I want to believe that she's telling the truth, but really I think she's just trying to make me feel happier.

  “Are you kidding, honey?” she replies, with tears in her eyes. “It looks great. It really suits you!”

  I can't help smiling, although after a moment I realize that something's wrong. I look around and see that we're sitting on the grass next to a calm, beautiful river. Glancing over my shoulder I see rolling fields in every direction, stretching to the horizon under a beautiful, sunny blue sky. A couple of butterflies are passing nearby, and the whole scene looks absolutely perfect.

  Almost too perfect.

  “Hey,” Mum says, touching my arm, “don't think about that.”

  “Don't think about what?” I ask, turning back to her.

  “Just be happy here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just be happy.”

  I open my mouth to ask what she means, but suddenly I realize that I've got butterflies in my stomach. I feel as if something's very wrong, but I can't quite work out what.

  “Isn't this heavenly?” Mum continues with a smile, as if she thinks everything is fine. “It's what you always wanted. Just you and me, happy and content, with none of that awful stuff that...” Her voice trails off for a moment, and I see a flicker of concern in her eyes. “Well, you know what I mean,” she adds. “I wasn't always the best mother in the world, Maddie, not when we were there. But I can make up for that now, I promise, now that we're here.”

  “Where's here?” I ask.

  “Did I ever tell you that you ask too many questions?” she replies with a laugh. “Why did I raise such an inquisitive little girl?”

  “I'm not a little girl,” I reply.

  “Of course you are!” She reaches out and takes hold of my right hand. “You're going to be Mummy's little girl forever.”

  “No,” I stammer, slipping my hand away. “This is what I wanted when I was a kid, when I actually was a little girl, but that was years ago. Something's wrong, I don't belong here.”

  “Just stay,” Mum replies, trying but failing to take my hand again as I get to my feet. “Nothing's going to be perfect anywhere else, Maddie. There are other places you can go when you die, Maddie, but none of them...” Her voice trails off for a moment, and there are tears in her eyes. “Just stay here,” she continues finally, “where it's nice and calm, where it's peaceful, where you don't have to worry about anything.” She reaches out to take my hand. “Where you don't have to fight.”

  “Where am I?” I ask.

  “We don't need to know that.”

  “Where -”

  Before I can finish, I feel the ground starting to rumble beneath my feet. A moment later something sharp pokes the end of one of my fingers. Looking down, I realize that all my fingertips are suddenly grazed and bloodied. At the same time, the world seems to be slowly swinging around me, and I can hear mournful cries in the distance.

  “Just a few more seconds,” Mum says earnestly, her voice filled with tension. “You're so nearly there, Maddie. You've almost made the decision to stay. All you have to do is wait a few more seconds and then you'll never have to fight.”

  “I want to fight,” I whisper, watching as more and more blood trickles down my finders.

  I start blinking furiously. I swear I can feel something in my eyes, something sharp.

  “Of course you don't want to fight,” Mum says. “Who would ever want to fight when they can stay here like this forever?”

  I turn to her, but now my eyes are watering. Not just with tears, but also with some kind of scratching sensation.

  “This isn't real,” Mum continues after a moment. “It's all in your head. It's a place you can go, where you can relive your life over and over. It's place where you can live forever until you die. But if you see the truth and leave here, you'll have to face the reality of where you are right now.”

  “Where am I right now?” I ask.

  “Take a look.”

  I open my mouth to ask what she means, but in that moment I close my eyes. This time something feels different, something feels wrong. And somehow I know – as the ground shakes violently beneath me and as I feel my fingertips digging into cold rock, and as chunks of stone are blasted against my face and as I hear screams behind me – that when I finally look around I'm going to see the truth.

  So I turn and open my eyes.

  ***

  A vast cloud of grit blasts against my face. I scream and turn away, but already thousands of sharp little chunks are slicing across my cheek and digging deep into my eyes. I try to blink them all away, but only a few fall loose and more are already being blown against me. I want to reach up and use my hands, but I don't dare let go off the rock-face, because then I'll get pulled away into the void. And then, when I scream again, more grit and dirt is blown into my mouth, slicing the back of my throat.

  Frantically adjusting my grip, I struggle to hold on. It's been several minutes now since I left Mum and found myself here, or at least I think it's been several minutes. Maybe it's been hours, or seconds, or years or forever. I'm still screaming, and I can still feel a huge force trying to pluck me away and pull me into the nothingness that's behind me. I'm trying desperately to hold onto the rocks, but my fingertips are getting cut to ribbons as I hold on tight, and I don't think I can keep this up forever.

  Despite the grit in my eyes, I turn and try to look around. I can barely see at all – only blurred shapes and patches of light set against huge swathes of darkness – but I can just about make out my surroundings.

  I'm clinging to a vast black rock-face that runs in every direction as far, vanishing into the horizon. Beyond the rock-face, behind me, there's a huge starless void. Every second, I see hundreds of blurred human figures shoot away from the rock-face, as if the same force is plucking them into oblivion as soon as they appear. Blinking furiously in an attempt to make my vision less blurry, I try looking the other way, but again all I see are figures being drawn away from the rocks. Or are they figures? I can barely even tell. I watch one as it flashes past me, and then I turn and just about make out the sight of the figure vanishing into the distance. I hear a scream, too, mixing in with the hundreds or even thousands of other screams that are filling the air all around me.

  Far away in the void, occasional flashes of light briefly light the darkness, yawning open for split seconds. I watch for a moment, horrified and spellbound, before feeling my fingers starting to slip. Turning, I adjust my grip on the wall once more.

  And then I
see him.

  There's a man clinging to the rocks not far away. He's being blasted by the same freezing wind that's hitting me, and it's clear that he's struggling to keep his grip. After a moment he looks this way, and for a moment we make eye contact. I blink furiously, trying to clear my vision, but all I can make out of the faintest, blurriest image of a face with two dark holes for eyes.

  And then he's gone.

  The wind plucks him from the rock-face and carries him screaming into the void. I turn and try to watch him go, but I'm too late and he's already lost.

  That's what'll happen to me as soon as I let go. And why wouldn't I let go? Looking around again, struggling to see anything through my blurred and scratched vision, all I see is more and more of this vast wall stretching away in every direction. A terrible storm is raging all around me, its gusts of wind howling across the wall and buffeting my chest in an attempt to blast me away. Even if I cling on forever, there's nowhere to escape to. I'll just be fighting for nothing, fighting to avoid being another soul that gets sucked into the void. For a moment I actually consider just letting go and discovering what's out there, but instead I adjust my grip and try to cling on tighter.

  I'll think of something.

  I have to think of something.

  I can't just stay here like this forever, dead and -

  Wait, am I dead?

  Is this what happens?

  Maybe I should have stayed with Mum, even if that was just a delusion in my mind. I'd have already been pulled away into the void, but maybe I'd have lived forever in the split second before that happened. Instead I insisted on seeing the truth, and now here I am cold and terrified and bloodied, barely able to see as I cling to the rock-face. Even now, I can feel tiny shards of gravel slashes against my face, cutting little lines of blood.

  If I'm dead, then what's worth fighting for?

  Suddenly I hear a loud scratching sound nearby. Turning, I don't see anything at first, but I blink some of the blurredness away and finally I'm just about able to make out the sight of a figure edging this way along the rock-face. Somebody has actually found a way to move about on this thing, and as she gets closer I see that she's just a little girl, no more than an early teenager. She's wincing as grit is blasted across her face, but somehow she's managing to keep her eyes open, which is more than I can manage. Between blinks, however, I can just about see her features.